


Penance or Punishment

by LadyMyfanwy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMyfanwy/pseuds/LadyMyfanwy
Summary: Ianto has finally finished cleaning the blood... so much blood... from the stone floor of Lisa's room.





	Penance or Punishment

Ianto operated mindlessly, without thought, an automaton set to work, mop going from bucket to floor and back to bucket. The scrub brush went up and down, back and forth as if it were being moved by a machine. A slosh of water spreading the red stain here, clearing it there. Mop… Scrub… Slosh… 

Mop…

Scrub… 

Slosh… 

Jack leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers atop his desk; he’d been watching the CCTV footage of Ianto cleaning the blood from the stone floor for more than an hour now. The blood of three human souls, victims of the young Welshman’s well-intended actions: Dr Hiro Tanizaki, cybernetics expert, Miss Annie Davies, university student and part-time pizza delivery girl, and last but not least, Miss Lisa Hallett, Ianto’s girlfriend and Torchwood victim. It was all so unnecessary, such a waste, but what was done was done and there was no turning back.

“So, what are you going to do?” Owen’s voice was quiet, lacking his usual snark. Jack had an odd suspicion that if he looked, he’d see honest concern on the medic’s face. “How do we fix this, Jack?”

“I don’t know,” Jack whispered. “I just don’t know.”

Owen had no reply and silence reigned in the office.

“Well, I vote we get rid of him as fast as possible.” Gwen’s strident voice broke the spell; she’d come in without either of them noticing. “Why is he still here, Jack?”

“Because I say so.” He saw the blank look on Ianto’s face as the camera caught sight of him full-on.

“But Jack,” Gwen’s voice took on a distinct and unpleasant whine. “He tried to kill me! Me!”

“You…” Jack slowly swung his chair around until he could see her. “And how do you propose we ‘get rid of him’, Gwen?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Gwen’s tone was childish as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Tell you what, since this is all about you, you get to choose, which means you’ll need options. So, let’s see… we’ve got a couple of rowdy Weevils down in the cells, we could put him in with them, let them rip him to shreds, that would be fun to watch, yeah? You’d enjoy that. 

“Or we could take him out to sea, miles and miles and miles from any shoreline and you get to throw him overboard, see if he can swim his way home…” Jack began ticking the options off his fingers. 

“You could Retcon him back to nappies, take away even the most basic memory and then you can drop him off in the Brecon Beacons; he’d never survive the weather out there this time of year, or… and this is my current fav,” he fixed Gwen with an icy stare. “You could put a bullet between his eyes and then explain his death to his family.”

“Me? This has nothing to do with me!” Gwen’s eyes widened with shock. “I’m not doing any of that!”

“Oh, don’t be so modest, Miss Cooper! Like you said, he just tried to kill you, so it’s only fair that you take it in turn to kill him, don’t you think? They’re all things I know you’d enjoy doing. And as for his family? Well, you keep telling us that you’re the heart of Torchwood, that you’re the only one who knows what it is to be human, to care for someone other than themselves. I’d say that makes you the perfect candidate for the job of getting rid of Ianto Jones and then sharing the good news.”

“As second-in-command, I agree with Jack. You really are perfect.” Owen nodded. “You can put Ianto out of your misery and then you and that great big heart can tell his only relatives, his sister and her kids, why they’ll never see Ianto Jones again.”

“Sod off, Owen!!!” Gwen shrieked and stormed from the room, clattering down the stairs to her throw herself into her chair and stare angrily at her desk. 

“You have a sick mind, Jack Harkness,” Owen went over and shut the door. “You wouldn’t really do any of those things, would you? I mean, I wouldn’t do any of that to my worst enemy!”

“Of course not.” Jack looked back at the monitor. Ianto had finished cleaning and now knelt on the floor, frozen in place. ‘It’s like he doesn’t know what to do next; like he’s waiting for his next set of orders.’ As angry as he was over the situation, Jack couldn’t help but feel sorry for the young man. ‘He looks like his entire world is gone.’

“Do you want me and Tosh to take him home? I can put him to sleep for a while.” Owen knew Toshiko wouldn’t mind helping; she was the closest thing to a friend Ianto Jones had at Torchwood.  
Jack jumped to his feet. “No, but you’ve just given me a good idea.” He grabbed Owen by the elbow and half-steered him, half-dragged him down to the medbay. “Make me a sedative, a big one, big enough to knock Ianto out for at least twelve hours, maybe even eighteen.”

“Then what?” Owen was already pulling things from cupboards.

“Then we have work to do.” Jack’s face was grim but determined.

***** 

“Ianto?”

The Welshman didn’t acknowledge their presence when Jack and Owen stepped into the small stone room that had become Lisa’s tomb, and Ianto’s too, in a way. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Jack had last seen the young man on the office monitor, but Ianto hadn’t moved an inch. It was like his spring had wound down, and without someone turning the key, he wasn’t going to move again.

Owen knelt in front of Ianto. “Mate?” He took hold of Ianto’s chin and gently turned his head so he could look into the younger man’s eyes. There was no one there looking back at him. Owen glanced up at Jack and shook his head. Hoping that Ianto was listening, the medic spoke softly, “Ianto, I’m going to give you something to help you relax and sleep for a few hours. When you wake up, we’ll talk, okay? Just us, if you want, okay?”

Jack sighed deeply when there was no indication that Ianto had heard Owen’s words; catching Owen’s eye he nodded, knowing that there was no other choice.

Wishing there was a way to help Ianto without drugging him, Owen took hold of his arm, pushed his sleeve up as far as he could and injected the sedative. It worked almost instantly, but Jack was there to catch his archivist as he collapsed, scooping him up in his arms and carrying him into one of the cells two levels up. Toshiko had already put a pillow and a soft warm quilt on the stone bunk, so Jack set him down, took off his jacket and shoes and buried him beneath the quilt before locking the door behind him. 

***** 

Without thinking about it, Jack took off his boots and set them just inside the door, watching as Tosh and Owen respectfully followed suit. They took the stack of boxes and bins further into the flat and looked around. Of the trio, only Jack had ever been there, so while Tosh went into the postage-stamp-sized kitchen to see how much work there was to be done, Owen wandered around the small lounge, fingering the books, CDs and DVDs on the shelves. Jack carried several flattened boxes on into the bedroom, where he quickly taped the boxes back into shape and began filling them with the contents of Ianto’s wardrobe. 

“Tosh?” Jack hollered, even though the flat was so small he could have used his normal indoor voice and she’d have heard him just fine. 

Torchwood’s brilliant techie appeared in the bedroom door a moment later. “You bellowed, my liege?”

Her humour was met with a slight upturn of Jack’s lips. “Did you bring up the bags for Ianto’s suits? I meant to grab them and forgot.”

She shook her head; “nope, never even thought of them. Give me the keys and I’ll go get them.”

“They’re in the back seat.” Jack tossed her a grateful smile along with his keyring. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, well you remember that next time I want a day off.” She grinned cheekily as she turned on her heel and headed out.

“Where you off to?” Owen looked up from where he knelt in front of a bookcase and watched Tosh putting her shoes back on... well, actually he just stared at her legs.

“Forgot the garment bags,” she twirled the keys on her finger. “Be right back.”

Owen went back to packing the contents of Ianto’s bookshelves, taking a moment now and again to browse the dust jacket of a few books and to admire the man’s extensive DVD collection. He had to sacrifice Ianto’s precise cataloguing system in order to get everything in the boxes. Next, he gently wrapped the only three pieces of decoration in the room – a Welsh dragon carved from Waterford Crystal, a little glazed-plaster tray clearly made by a child (Owen turned it over and saw ‘To Mam from Ianto, 1987’ etched into the bottom) and a three-inch-tall replica of Elizabeth Tower and Big Ben made from cast bronze – and carefully nestled them in one of the sturdy plastic bins to protect them. 

There were two framed photographs, one of Lisa and Ianto having a summer picnic in the park, and one of two children and a woman who looked a lot like Ianto; surrounded with bubble wrap, they joined the three objects in the bin. Other than those few unique pieces, the flat was depressingly devoid of personality. “A cheap hotel room is cheerier than this,” Owen muttered. “At least they have drapes.”

“It’s started to rain,” Tosh popped back in and shook her head, sending raindrops flying as she toed off her shoes and carried the garment bags into the bedroom.

“Damn!” Owen dropped the last of the boxes in the hall and his expletive echoed in the small room now that it was empty but for the sofa and a small, old TV on a wire stand. “Fucking Gwen!”

“Agreed. Refusing to help us just shows how stupid and selfish she really is.” Tosh came up behind him and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder for a moment. “On the other hand, can you honestly say you want her here, ridiculing Ianto, criticising his belongings and disparaging the way he’s lived since returning to Cardiff?” She waved an expressive hand at the little flat. “Everything he has is here, so I’m guessing that entire paychecks must have gone to care for Lisa.”

Owen pulled the petite Japanese woman in close and kissed the side of her head as they stood and looked at the four boxes and one bin collected so far that contained the life of Ianto Jones. “It’s a sad commentary on a man when everything he owns will fit in the back of an SUV.”

“I only have a couple of small boxes in the kitchen. I don’t think he’s ever cooked or eaten here, Owen; there’s nothing but a coffee machine, a couple of mugs, a measuring spoon, a canister of coffee beans and a grinder.”

“No,” Owen frowned. “Did you check the fridge and the cupboards?”

Toshiko cocked her head and gave him a look. “Really?”

Owen flushed a little. “Sorry, of course you did. I wasn’t… I was thinking when was the last time he sat down with us to eat.”

“Well, he orders our lunch almost every day and I know he gets pizza in a couple of times a week…”

“Yeah, but when’s the last time you saw him actually eat anything.”

“I can’t remember.” Jack had entered the kitchen and heard Owen’s last question. “I really can’t. I just assumed he ate while making coffee, or while he was down in the Archives or when he went home.” 

“The only edible thing in this flat is coffee beans, Jack. There aren’t any food wrappers for takeaway or frozen microwave meals in the trash, just a bunch of used coffee filters.” There were tears in Tosh’s eyes. “There aren’t even any dishes or utensils, no pots and pans, nothing but coffee.”

“If he’s not eating at the Hub and he’s not eating at home, then…” Owen felt his gut clench with worry.

“When did Ianto become invisible?” Toshiko’s question came out in a soft whisper. 

“I don’t know, Tosh.” Jack shook his head, tears clutching at his throat. He pointed at Owen. “First thing when we get back you’re doing a full work-up on Mr Jones.”

“Done.”

***** 

It didn’t take long to move Ianto’s meagre belongings to the Hub courtesy of a large van from Harwood’s Haulage and then down to a room originally used by humanoid aliens back in the day. It was twice the size of Janet’s cell and included a sink/toilet combo in the corner. Ianto’s double bed fit against the back wall, leaving space for a bedside table and lamp, a tall bookcase and a small chest of drawers. The problem of what to do with Ianto’s suits was solved when Owen hung a rail from the ceiling above the foot of the bed. 

“Way we did it during my residency,” he announced as he folded up the ladder. “Eight guys in a three-bedroom flat left very little room for furniture.”

“Whatever works.” Jack nodded approvingly. “Okay, Tosh, if you’ll get the bed made up, Mr Muscles here and I will carry Ianto over.”

Moments later, Jack was again covering Ianto with a warm duvet. Tosh had discretely slipped out while Jack and Owen undressed the unconscious man, so she missed Jack’s gasp of dismay and Owen’s softly whispered, “holy shit!” when they saw how thin Ianto was when he wore nothing more than his pants; they could easily count every rib and his spine was a string of bony bumps down his back.

“Jesus, Jack…” Owen was truly horrified. “I mean… how did we miss this?”

Jack Harkness swallowed back the tears that were threatening to fall. “I don’t know, Owen. He just…”

“He slips under the radar, it’s a gift and a curse.” Toshiko re-entered Ianto’s bedroom and she caught a glimpse of Ianto’s malnourished frame before Jack could pull up the duvet. “He gives us everything we need, when we need it, sometimes even before we know we want whatever it is. In return, we don’t really notice him doing it.”

Owen slammed out of the room, muttering furiously to himself under his breath; it sounded like most of it was expletives.

“Things are going to have to change, Jack, or we’re going to lose Ianto, especially now that his reason for living is gone.”

Jack turned on the bedside lamp and turned off the overhead light before leading Tosh from the room. “We may have made a mistake there, sweetheart, a big mistake.”

“There is no ‘may have’ about it, Jack,” she slipped her arm into his as they followed Owen back upstairs. “We made a huge mistake.”

***** 

“Breath deep… okay, hold it…” Owen moved the stethoscope to numerous locations around Ianto’s back, trying not to press too hard against his bony frame. “Now let it out, empty out as much as you can, then slowly breathe back in til you can’t breathe in any more and slowly release it.” He moved around the medbay bed to face his patient, listening to Ianto’s chest the whole time. 

Hovering over the railing like a bizarre spectre, Jack couldn’t wait. “Well? How is he?”

Owen heaved a sigh of irritation. “His lungs sound clear, but he’s got quite a nasty cold. Nothing for that but time and tissues and maybe some cough syrup if it gets too bad. He just needs to eat a healthy diet, lots of fresh fruit and veg, a balance of carbs and protein, milk not coffee…”

“He’s right here, you know?” Ianto’s voice was so soft it almost went unheard. It was the first time he’d spoken since waking in his new bedroom and being brought upstairs to endure Owen’s rather extensive examination. 

“Ianto?” Jack rushed down the stairs but then approached the exam table slowly. “How do you feel?”

Unable to look at Jack, Ianto studied his hands, his eyes flicking again and again to the chair where his clothes were piled. 

“Are you done here, Owen?” Jack glanced over his shoulder. “Can he get dressed?”

“Give me two minutes to draw some bloods and then, yeah, he’s good to go.”

Jack handed Ianto his trousers and waited patiently til he’d zipped and buttoned them, then he handed Ianto his shirt. “Just leave one arm naked for Owen to play with.” He was hoping for a reaction, a snort, a smile, even an eye-roll, but Ianto merely slipped his shirt halfway on and sat back down.

***** 

Inhaling the intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee, Jack looked over the rim of his mug. Ianto sat on the other side of the desk, his back ramrod straight, his hands folded neatly in his lap and his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. He’d spoken not a word after leaving the medbay and when called upstairs, he’d arrived with Jack’s coffee and a blank expression in his grey-blue eyes. 

“How are you settling in downstairs, Ianto?”

“Fine, thank you, Sir.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to have from storage?” Other than what was in his new bedroom, Ianto’s meagre possessions occupied a small corner of the smallest unit available in a secure Torchwood storage facility hidden down in the warehouse district.

“No, thank you, Sir.” Ianto’s voice remained the same, a lifeless monotone spoken by a man who’d lost his way.

“Ianto, look at me, please.” Jack waited until the man raised his eyes and met Jack’s gaze. “Do you understand why you’re here? Why you’re living here?”

There was a moment when pain, anger and regret flashed across Ianto’s face before he spoke. “I should be dead, Sir; I almost destroyed the world. I cannot be allowed to remain unsupervised.”

“No! No, that’s… well, yes, partly, but no, Ianto, you should not be dead!” Frustrated, Jack nearly slammed his mug down the desk, stopping just in time to prevent making a mess on the paperwork strewn about. “You made a mistake. You looked at Lisa through the eyes of a man in love, not those of a Torchwood operative. You did everything you could to save the human being you could still see in her. Your actions spoke so much louder than words ever could, even at the end when you tried to reason with her.”

“But I failed, didn’t I? Quite spectacularly, truth be told.” Despite the anguish in his eyes, Ianto’s voice held no emotion.

Jack wasn’t sure how to respond to that. ‘What trite old saying could possibly ease any of his pain?’ Instead, he drank another mouthful of coffee and then said, “You may see this as a punishment you feel you deserve, Ianto and maybe in part it is. However, it is more about helping you than anything else.” 

Almost imperceptibly, Ianto’s eyebrow rose in question, as though doubting Jack’s words.

“You are going to live here, in the Hub, for as long as it takes for Owen to pronounce you healthy again. You will not leave this facility for any reason. You may work anywhere you like, including the Tourist Office upstairs. I hope you’ll give me your word you won’t use the front door, Ianto.” Jack raised his mug to his lips, trying to convey a casualness that he didn’t feel. 

***** 

Three Days Later

Jack was asleep, the first deep, undisturbed sleep he’d been able to achieve in weeks, sleep not interrupted by dreams, good or bad. It took several beeps before the sound penetrated Jack’s brain, waking him and sending him slapping at his wrist strap, poking at a couple of buttons to stop the noise. Swinging his feet to the floor, Jack glanced quickly at the bedside clock – 12:30 am – slipped on a pair of sleep pants and climbed the ladder to his office and then he went down to the main floor of the Hub, going straight to Tosh’s desk. A few clicks of the mouse later and he had the coordinates for the location of the latest Riftugee; Cardiff’s rift in time and space didn’t just take things away, sometimes it returned them and once in a while, it was a living, breathing person.

Dashing down into his bunker, Jack dressed as fast as he could then went back up to his office, where he strapped on his Webley and grabbed his greatcoat before heading for the cog door. Halfway across the Hub a thought struck and he quickly changed course, running down to the cells. Banging open Ianto’s bedroom door, Jack pulled the sleeping man out of bed and across the hall, pushed him into a cell, locked it and then left the Hub at a dead run for the carpark.

With a Riftugee who’d undoubtedly suffered God knows what types of injuries, time was of the essence.

***** 

“Where’s Ianto with my coffee!” Owen roared for the third time in less than an hour. Doing paperwork always put him in a tetchy mood, one that only a rousing video game of shoot the alien and Ianto’s perfectly brewed coffee could cure. 

“Jesus Christ, Owen! Enough already!” Gwen yanked her purse from the drawer and then slammed it shut so hard her pen cup fell over and its contents rolled off the desk and onto the floor. “I’ll go get you some damned coffee!” and before either of her teammates could actually put in an order for their favourites, she was gone, leaving just the cog door alarms blaring in her wake.

“Speaking of missing things,” Owen came up from the autopsy bay and plopped down in Gwen’s vacant chair, wheeling over to sit close to Tosh. “Where is our heroic captain today?” 

Toshiko plucked a Post-It note from the side of one of her monitors. “Rift alert last night, negative spike.” Her eyes met Owen’s. “He must still be on Flat Holm.”

“Why didn’t he call me?” 

“Doesn’t say, but maybe the victim didn’t need more medical care than Mary and her staff could provide. You’ve trained them well; they can handle all the basic stuff.”

“And more, actually,” Owen nodded proudly. Ever since Jack had let him and Tosh in on the secret that was Flat Holm Island sanctuary, they’d done their very best to help support and improve life for the unfortunate souls the Rift returned and for those who so selflessly cared for them. 

Owen had spent many, many hours training Mary and the others on ways to dress wounds, relieve pain, sedate hysterical patients and handle most injuries not severe enough to require the medic’s attention.

Toshiko had taken over the sanctuary’s computer system, updating programs for patient records, payroll, supplies and so much more. She’d been able to free up so many manhours for the staff to use in caring for the Rift’s victims.

“It’s possible Jack took Ianto with him,” she offered. “One more hand to help out? You know he’s a wiz with organisation and whatnot.”

“Don’t care who he tells, as long as it’s not Gwen bloody Cooper.” Owen scooted the chair back to Gwen’s desk, crossed his arms and put his feet up, pushing the keyboard to the side. “Last thing we need is that bleedin’ heart, goodie-two-shoes, ‘I’m so much better at caring than anyone else’ bitch messing with the good things we’ve accomplished, and nobody over there needs her bulldozer approach to helping.”

Tosh snorted softly. “Tell us how you really feel!”

Owen’s eyes opened comically; Tosh never expressed a negative opinion about her co-workers. “You’re a bit of dark horse, you are, Toshi, my…” He was interrupted by the blare of the door alarms and he looked over, eager to get his hands on whatever coffee Gwen had decided to get. “About time, Coo…”

“Hey, kids! Did you miss me?” Jack bounded through the door with an ear-to-ear grin on his face. 

“Thank God!” Owen leapt to his feet. “Now the coffee magic can begin!” He looked around, waiting to see Ianto head up to the kitchen.

“Jack, where’s Ianto?” Toshiko frowned. “Isn’t he with you?”

“Nah,” Jack started heading up to his office, shrugging off his greatcoat. “I’ve been on the Island all day.” And with that, he disappeared into his office; he desperately needed to shower and put on fresh clothes.

Downstairs, Owen cocked his head, becoming concerned by the tea-boy’s absence. “Did he leave while Jack was gone? I mean, he knows he’s not supposed to but maybe while the cat’s away…” He let the implication speak for itself.

Tosh was already pulling up the CCTV footage of the Hub, her fingers flying over the keys as she pulled up one camera view after another. “There’s no sign of him since he went downstairs about eleven last night; I’m guessing he went to bed.”

“He’s got this weird internal clock thing makes him wake up at the same time every day; he doesn’t have an alarm clock and he doesn’t use the one on his mobile. He just wakes up, poof!” and the medic snapped his fingers. “It’s disgusting.” This last was said with great feeling; waking up and worse, getting out of bed were often the worst moments of Owen’s day, worse even than doing an autopsy on the bloated corpse of a Zalkip that had washed up on the shores of Barry Island after being in the water for at least a week. 

“Then why hasn’t he come upstairs yet?”

Owen was on his feet and heading for the stairs down to the lower levels, pausing on the top step. “Well, are you coming?”

Startled for just an instant, Tosh hurried to follow the medic.

It only a minute for the duo to reach Ianto’s room; they found the door open and the room empty. The bed was rumpled, the duvet halfway on the floor. Owen touched the pillow, it was cold; he stood with his hands on his hips, looking around and noticed that Ianto’s shoes were still by the door.

“Maybe he’s in the showers?”

Tosh shook her head. “Not unless he’s been there for hours; we’d have seen him.”

Alarm grew as their eyes met. “He’s fallen in the shower!” Owen blurted out.

“But we’d have seen him!”

“Backstairs, woman!!” Owen propelled Tosh towards the door. “Go!”

Tosh allowed Owen to push her out into the hall where she came to a grinding halt, causing Owen to crash into her. 

“Oh my God!” she whispered, shocked into inaction by the site before her.

Owen shoved Tosh out of the way, wanting to see what had her frozen to the spot. That was when he saw Ianto, half naked and tightly curled into the foetal position.

The medic crossed the few steps to the cell door and pulled on it, pounding his fist against the Plexiglass. “Ianto! Mate, wake-up!”

There was no response and he began punching buttons into the control box, in his desperation, his first two attempts were wrong. Finally, the door opened and they both rushed in and Owen dropped to his knees next to Ianto’s still form. He pressed his fingers to Ianto’s throat, finding a pulse, but it was weak and thready. 

“Tosh, my kit!” he hollered over his shoulder. “Go get my kit!”

Even in heels, Toshiko Sato could run, and spurred on by the urgency in Owen’s voice, she ran like the wind; it took less than two minutes before she was back in the cell, already opening the medical bag so that Owen could easily access anything he needed.

“We need to move him, get him upstairs…” Owen was listening to Ianto’s heart. “Light as he is, I don’t think I can carry him…”

Tosh was gone again, a fierce Japanese dragon on a mission. She slammed through Jack’s office door unannounced and stormed over to the front of his desk.

“You bastard!” she roared as her hand slapped Jack’s face so hard his head snapped back and his teeth rattled. “How could you be so cruel?!” She raised her hand to strike again.

“Wha…? Even though Jack was nearly stunned into silence by Tosh’s attack, his reflexes kicked in quickly enough to catch her hand just an inch from his face. “What the hell!”

“Why would you treat Ianto like an animal?” Tosh was so angry there were tears in her eyes and she hastily brushed them away. 

“Tosh, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I haven’t seen Ianto all day!” Jack protested his innocence.

Toshiko’s voice dropped to a low level, a sure sign of danger ahead. “Do you know why you haven’t seen him, Jack?”

“Because I’ve been gone all day! Jesus, Tosh…!” Jack ran a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“And what time did you leave last night?”

“I don’t know… a quarter to one, I guess.”

“And what time is it now?” Tosh’s eyes were hard, sharp, flinty.

Jack looked at his computer monitor, “it’s shortly after three. What does it matter?” He was starting to get irritated with all the pointless questions.

“So, we’re talking about, what… fourteen hours or so? Maybe a little more?” The look on Tosh’s face was starting to scare Jack, more than just a bit. “Do you know where has Ianto been for those fourteen hours?” 

“Down in the Archi…” A look of absolute horror filled Jack’s face. “Oh my God!” he whispered as his memory came flooding back and without waiting for Tosh Jack was off like a shot, hurtling down the metal staircase, flinging himself down the steps and thundering along the hall to the cells. He came to a skidding halt outside the one where Owen was still kneeling beside Ianto.

“About damn time, Jack!” he snarled. “Get him upstairs, now!” 

Moments later the leader of Torchwood Three was laying Ianto’s icy-cold form down atop the soft quilt Tosh had snagged from the Welshman’s bed; she pushed Jack aside so that she could wrap it around him, tucking it under his chin and then she was gone again.

Meanwhile, Owen was muttering under his breath as he opened drawers so violently that some of their contents jumped out, clattering to the floor, and cupboard doors were slammed closed so hard that they bounced open again. He too shoved Jack – albeit with a lot more force than Tosh – as he pulled over a rolling cart covered with equipment. 

“Sorry, mate,” he spoke softly as he pulled the quilt down to Ianto’s waist and attached electrodes to his chest, trying not to notice how Ianto’s bones stuck out in sharp relief against his paper-white skin or how constant shivering wracked his thin body. He tucked the quilt back under his chest and turned on the machine; the beep was slow, too slow for comfort, but at least it was regular. Owen’s touch was gentle as he examined his patient, seeing the man’s blue lips, earlobes and fingertips. ‘Stage two hypothermia.’ He slipped a cannula into Ianto’s nostrils and turned on the oxygen.

Jack stepped closer to the bed one hand reaching out to stroke the side of Ianto’s face. “His skin is like ice, Owen!” he exclaimed.

“What the hell do you expect, you fucking arse!” Owen spun around and clenched his fists at his sides; the urge, the need to punch Jack was almost overwhelming. “You dragged him out of bed and threw him into that cell where it’s about five bloody fucking Celsius! You know Janet likes the cold and now his body temp is only thirty-one degrees!” His voice had risen with each word until he was roaring with anger. “He’s wearing a pair of paper-thin sleep pants without a top and then you go off and leave him with nothing but that concrete slab to lie on, no pillow, no blanket, not even a pair of fucking socks!” 

“I didn’t think… I had to hurry,” Jack tried to explain. “I didn’t know what condition this latest rift victim would be in.”

“Don’t even try that on me, Jack Harkness!” Owen snorted. “I had Tosh access Mary’s computer; she pulled up Jacob’s medical files for me. A badly sprained ankle, a mild concussion and a cut on his arm; nothing serious and certainly nothing to keep you on Flat Holm all day!”

“Well, I didn’t know that at the time, O…!” 

This time there was nothing gentle about the way Tosh shoved Jack away from Ianto, placing herself between them. “Under or over?” she asked Owen, indicating the blanket she was carrying; fresh from the dryer it was lovely and warm. 

The doctor buried his hand in the folds for a moment. “Under,” and he pulled the quilt from Ianto’s body, letting Tosh carefully lay the blanket over Ianto and then he replaced the quilt on top. Tosh and Owen’s eyes met across the body of their stricken teammate and they shared the same thought: ‘It’s going to be a very long night.’

***** 

Four Months Later 

“Jack?” Gwen’s strident voice cut through the peaceful silence of the Hub. “Jack!”

The sudden shout startled Tosh and Owen, who were working on a project down in the medbay. “Bloody hell, Cooper! What are you on about now?!” Owen’s head popped up on the stairs. “Ever try using the comms? Marvellous invention, means you don’t have to shriek like a banshee ev…”

“Shut it, Owen!” Gwen snarled. “JACK!”

The door to Jack’s office slammed open and the man himself stepped out onto the landing. “Any particular reason you’re screeching my name? I mean, normally when a woman screams for me it’s…”

Gwen stabbed her finger at the monitor on her desk. “Ianto’s gone outside, Jack. He’s trying to escape! I told you it was just a matter of time before he tried something, didn’t I? I told you he couldn’t be trusted. I told you time and again he should have been locked up, not roaming freely around here, doing whatever he wants. I told you…”

Jack drew a deep calming breath even as he balled his fists and hid them in his pockets. “Ianto Jones is not a prisoner, Gwen. He is a member of my team. We decided several weeks ago that he is allowed to go wherever he wants whenever he wants.”

“What?! How could…” Gwen Cooper gaped in shock. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

“Perhaps because it didn’t concern you?” Toshiko joined Owen on the steps.

“Not everything’s about you, Cooper, you miserable bi…” Owen came to an abrupt halt when Tosh elbowed him in the ribs.

Ignoring her team mates, Gwen put her hands on her hips and stuck out her chin. “I deserve to know, Jack!” Her tone was aggressive, almost challenging. “He tried to kill me, remember? I need to know if I have to watch my back out there as well as in here.” Her right hand moved to the small of her back as though she were reassuring herself that her gun was still there.

“I can assure you, Gwen, that Ianto has no interest in harming you in any way. If he had, he would have ended you by now, don’t you think?” Jack couldn’t resist. “If it were me, I’d poison the coffee you so rudely demand he make just for you, especially when you know he’s in the middle of something.”

Gwen flushed an ugly red. “That’s his job.” Her tone was vicious.

“No, actually it’s not.” Toshiko came up to the main floor and sat down at her desk. “His job title is Chief Archivist.” Her fingers danced across her keyboard. “There you go, I just sent you a copy of his job description.” She smiled smugly. “When you read it you’ll notice that the word coffee doesn’t appear even once.”

Gwen whirled around, a biting retort on her lips, but Jack interrupted her before she could lash out.

“Well, now that’s settled, we’ve got work to do.” Jack surveyed his little kingdom from the landing. “How’s that autop…?”

“It’s bloody well not settled, Jack!” Gwen actually stamped her foot in rage and frustration. “Ianto has gone outside and by now he’s probably long gone!”

“Actually, Gwen, he’s sitting on a bench right out front of this very building, looking out over the Bay. Of course,” Tosh caught Jack’s eye and grinned mischievously, “given his murderous inclinations, he’s undoubtedly plotting when and where he’s going to get you, now that he’s free to go anywhere he pleases.”

Tosh’s words were met with a sharp bark of laughter from the medbay. “Good one, Toshi, my girl!” Owen chortled into his alien cadaver. “I can give him a few pointers if he wants!”

“Jack,” Gwen’s tone became pleading as she tried another tact. “At least go out there and get him, please?” She opened her eyes wide and put a small simpering smile on her face. “For me? Please? You know how badly you’d feel if something happened to me.”

“You know what? You’re right.” Jack disappeared for a moment, allowing Gwen to turn to her team mates with a nasty smirk.

“See?” she hissed. “I was right! It’s time to lock him…” 

“He shouldn’t be out there.” Jack reappeared, adjusting the collar of his greatcoat. “Not alone, anyway. It’s a nice day and I’m going to join him.”

“Bring back some lunch,” Owen called out. “I’m starving! Chinese would be good, yeah, Tosh?”

Toshiko nodded approvingly. “Egg drop soup sounds delicious, and some fried rice, please.”

“Beef in oyster sauce, some ribs, eggrolls, egg foo young, chicken lo mein…” Owen’s head popped up again. “Ianto knows what to get. Tell him ‘Owen’s #3’; he’ll know what it means.”

“Chinese it is then, got it.” Jack grabbed the keys to the SUV as he headed for the door, pausing with a cheeky grin. “Gwen, anything special you’d like Ianto to order for you?” 

His oh-so-innocent question was met by a shriek of impotent rage as Gwen Cooper stormed furiously down the hall toward the bathroom, followed by laughter from Jack, Tosh and Owen.

Moments later, Jack dropped down onto the bench next to Ianto, sitting close enough that if either man moved just an inch their bodies would be touching. Ianto acknowledged his arrival with a brief tilt of his head, but he said nothing. 

Jack closed his eyes and laid his head back, relishing the warmth of the sun beating down on his face. A soft breeze from off the water caressed his skin and he smiled softly. Being a top-secret organisation that fought aliens and dealt with the rift mean spending so many hours of the day underground, often only coming to the surface after dark to deal with this or that. 

‘God, this feels good.’ He inhaled deeply, breathing in the smells of the Bay, the salty tang of the water, the odour of diesel fumes, a mild hint of fish from the boats below, the scent of chips being fried, and just at the last, the faintest whiff of Ianto’s aftershave. 

“Haven’t been out here in a long time.” Ianto’s voice was soft.

Jack turned his head just enough to see him. “How are you doing, Ianto?”

“Fine, Sir, thank you for asking.” Ianto turned to him with a twinkle in his eye. 

Sitting upright, Jack turned toward the Welshman and looked at him basking in the bright sunshine. It had been a hard-won battle, but Ianto was once more a fit young man. The pallor had left his skin, replaced by a healthy glow, there was light in his eyes again, there was meat on his bones and his clothes no longer hung off his body. He ate regular meals both with the team and alone with Jack, and he easily joined in conversations with Tosh and Owen, the latter astonished many times by Ianto’s sharp wit and snarky sense of humour.

“Sir?” 

“Umm… yeah.” Suddenly aware that he’d been caught staring, Jack cleared his throat. “Owen says to tell you Chinese, number three, that you’ll know what he means.”

“Ah, yes, the infamous number three.” Ianto stood and brushed off his trousers. “I hope you have the keys, Sir, because we’re going to need the SUV to bring back that much food.” 

Jack frowned. “Just how much are we talking about?”

His question was met with a resigned chuckle. “One of almost everything on the menu, Sir.”

“Where does he put it all?” Jack muttered. Shaking his head in bewilderment, he followed Ianto towards the carpark, determined to watch as they ate to see just how much food Owen actually consumed. “I wonder if he shares it with Janet. Hey, Ianto?” he called out. 

Ianto Jones paused, waiting for the other man to catch up, greeting him with a smile. “Sir?”

“Do Weevils even like Chinese? I mean, they can’t read their fortune cookie…”

end


End file.
